


The Final Straw

by Sick_head_Sweet_heart



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Joy Rides, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smoking, car shennanigans, mentions of The Kira Case, unexpected dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 11:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sick_head_Sweet_heart/pseuds/Sick_head_Sweet_heart
Summary: "The next exit was coming up quickly and Matt pulled off, hitting his breaks and taking the exit ramp. His fingers flew to the GPS, plugging in the address for their apartment and following its shrill commands back onto the highway.Going the opposite way he had come. Going back to their apartment.What a waste of 30 minutes."Ever since Mello dragged Matt from L.A. to Japan to pursue Kira, he's been nothing but incorrigible. But even when Mello kicks him out of their apartment, Matt can't help but miss the boy that always rides in his passenger seat.
Relationships: Matt | Mail Jeevas & Mello | Mihael Keehl, Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	The Final Straw

“Get out.”

The words hit Matt in the chest hard, penetrating his weak, level 1 armor and plunging straight through his heart. K.O.

“No way.” He tried to spit the words out, but they sounded weak to his own ears. “It’s icy as hell out there.”

Mello leveled him with that same piercing glare, eyes narrowed until they were almost slits. “Get the fuck out,” he repeated, and Matt felt something new rise in his chest. Anger, hot and molten.

Mello had had an attitude ever since he dragged them _both_ to Japan. Well, he always had an attitude, but an even worse attitude. L.A. had put some distance between Mello and Near, but that grace period was over. They were all in Japan, all in close quarters, and Mello was acting like a bitch. Mello didn’t get that right after uprooting his life _again_.

“Not happening,” Matt said, focusing on keeping his voice steady. “If you want someone to leave so bad, do it yourself.”

Mello shifted on the couch, his booted foot slamming from the coffee table and onto the shitty linoleum floor of their shitty apartment. The noise was loud and made Matt flinch, heart jumping into his throat. There was roughly 30 feet separating the living room from the kitchen, which Mello could cross in a couple quick steps. Then Matt was fucked.

He thought it was impossible, but Mello’s glare became even more vicious, piercing through his face like a bullet and splattering his blood and brains all over the rickety shelf behind him.

“N-not happening,” Matt said again, cursing the wavering of his voice.

Mello hunched forward, shifting his weight onto his feet, and sirens went off in Matt’s head. He was getting up. Getting up to do who knows what to him and did Mello have his gun? Or had he left it in the bedroom?

Matt felt his resolve crumble into a fine, dusty powder. He’d always been a coward. “Fine! Fine! I’m going.” He moved around the dusty counter and stomped to the door, wrenching it open and listening to the handle slam against the wall. 

“Fuck you,” he spat as he slammed it shut again, leaving Mello alone in their warm apartment and trapping himself out in the frigid hall.

“Fuck,” he repeated to the empty hallway, his only companions the long curly strands of wallpaper that were peeling back from the wall and the musty rot of discolored mold. Rage still bubbled in his chest and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. God he was a mess.

Matt leaned against their apartment door, listening to the quiet that lay on the other side. He waited a few minutes, surprised that Mello still hadn’t made a sound or thrown something at the door, and pushed off his heels. If he was going to be kicked out, he wasn’t going to stand here and mope and freeze his ass off.

He’d take his baby for a drive.

_Ding!_

The elevator was loud when he pushed the call button, the high-pitched ding echoing off the crumbling walls. The doors slid open after a worrying pause, creaking like old bones as they finally gave him enough space to squeeze through.

Matt hit the button for the ground floor and leaned against the reflective metal of the interior, absently watching the dots above the door flash. Third floor, down to second, pause, down to the lobby. 

_Ding!_

The creaky doors found the energy to open and Matt stepped out of the deathtrap, palming his back pocket for his keys. They were a familiar weight in his hand, creaking against the gloves Mello made him wear because of “fingerprints.” Jesus, Mello and his stupid fucking rules.

He tipped his head to the old man who had just come in and braced himself, pushing open the door and stepping into the frigid air. 

As if the late December evening wasn’t cold enough, the wind had also come out to play. It whipped at Matt’s too-long hair and left any exposed skin stinging. Barely keeping his teeth from chattering, Matt drew up his vest’s collar and tucked his chin into it, drawing the fabric tighter around himself.

He breathed in, shielding his soon-to-be-red nose from nature’s violence and nearly choked. Laundry day was coming sooner than he thought.

The walk from the apartment building to the garage was already short, but Matt cut his time in half, speeding to get into the warmth and safety of his Camaro. He unlocked the car with frozen fingers, jamming the key into the ignition and turning until the engine purred and warmth radiated out of the vents. 

Matt sighed, leaning back against the seat and crossing his arms over his chest. When the car was warm enough he slipped off his gloves, tossing them into the backseat and flexing his fingers. They were still a little numb with the cold, but it was nothing a cigarette wouldn’t fix.

He shifted in his seat until he could slip the pack out of his pocket, taking a cig between his fingers and lighting up using the car lighter. It fit between his lips perfectly, his missing puzzle piece as he took the warm rush of smoke deep into his lungs. 

As he reclined his seat back, he realized he had no clue what he was doing. All he had in his pockets were his smokes, his keys (which were now in his car), his phone, and what was attached to his chain, i.e. his wallet. He barely had enough layers of clothing to step outside. But, he’d had less, been worse off. He’d find some way to pass the time until Mello called him.

Mello… 

He couldn’t help but glance towards the passenger seat, empty, for once. If he leaned over and touched the seat it would be cold. Cold without the warmth of Mello’s body to give it life.

Biting back a groan, Matt shook his head to clear his thoughts, hand jerking to the radio instead. He could actually listen to music now that Mello wasn’t here. No more constantly listening to the news all day every day. At the rate Matt was consuming the news, he could be a newscaster himself and a damn good one at that.

He pulled his seat back up into position and turned the dial, sifting through until he found a good station for background music. Some pop song he’d never heard before was on. He only understood half of the Japanese words that the singer seemed to belt out quickly, but it was entertaining. And it wasn’t the news.

As he backed out of the parking lot he flicked his cigarette butt out a tiny crack in his window and rolled it right back up again, slotting another cigarette between his lips. 

If he remembered correctly, he still had a couple thousand yen in his wallet, enough to buy him a meal to stop his stomach from growling. Maybe he even had enough for another pack or two of cigarettes.

The roads were pretty clear. Matt had lucked out and skimped by just barely after the end of rush hour and the frigid, icy conditions only helped to clear his path, giving him and his baby room to stretch their legs. 

While he drove at a questionable speed for the weather conditions, undistinguishable music droned on in the background. Where one song stopped and the next started was impossible to tell unless there was a change in singer from male to female or vice versa, but Matt found himself bobbing his head along anyways as he chewed on the filter of his cig. 

Maybe being kicked out wasn’t so bad after all. He’d get a bite to eat where _he_ wanted, was guaranteed to be the one to drive _his_ car, he could listen to what _he_ wanted to, and he didn’t have to follow any of Mello’s rules. 

And Mello wouldn’t give a shit. He barely ate anything besides chocolate anyways. Matt had lost count of the number of times he’d brought Mello home a nice, freshly microwaved meal from the convenience store across the street, only to have Mello pick at it methodically, like a doctor poking a patient, before taking 3 bites and trashing the rest. 

If the man wanted to run on chocolate and coffee, that was his choice. Unlike Mello, he’d let him live his life. It wasn’t his problem.

Matt pulled up to a red light and stopped, pushing the dwindling end of his cigarette around in his mouth. Curiosity got the best of him and he turned the radio dial some more, stopping when English filtered through the speakers.

The light turned green and he pulled off onto the expressway, increasing his speed and merging onto the empty road. The lyrics of the song that came on finally clicked in his head. He’d just tuned into the tail end of an Eminem song. _Shit… I liked that one._

He pursed his lips as he waited for the next song to begin, pinching his spent cigarette and letting it go out the window, following its predecessor. The Japanese ad ended and the next song filled the gap quickly, synthetic, short beats filling up the car. It sounded a little like the theme music to one of his video games, choppy and something that made you want to bob your head. 

Warmth spread across Matt’s cheeks and sunk down into his bones, making his body buzz with energy. He knew the song as soon as the electric guitar kicked in, harsh and authoritative.

Martyr, Depeche Mode. Mello loved this song.

Immediately, his hand flew to the dial, impulse trying to get him to change the station… but he couldn’t. The asshole kicked him out and he couldn’t even get him out of his fucking mind.

Fuck.

He let the song play, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat as he pushed down on the gas pedal. 

_I’ve been a martyr for love, I need to be by your side_

Another cigarette found its way into Matt’s mouth, his eyes straying again to the passenger seat. The empty passenger seat. 

He tried to pull his eyes back to the road but something else caught his attention. Just off the upcoming exit was a little noodle shop straight out of an anime, short swaying tarps hanging from the hut’s little roof while the long metal pole of bar stools peeked out from underneath. Matt squinted and saw that the place was empty. Open and empty.

_I knew that I would have to suffer in vain, Aware that I would never outgrow the pain_

Suddenly he was possessed by an overwhelming urge to slam his head against the steering wheel. Repeatedly. His brain was telling him to go back for Mello, as if that wouldn’t get him killed. 

It was a stupid thought. A stupid, suicidal, crazy thought, but it wouldn’t go away. It kept nagging at him, chipping away at his resolve and bringing with it the beginnings of a headache. 

He couldn’t bang his head so he did the next best thing, slamming his hands against the top of the steering wheel and swearing. 

The next exit was coming up quickly and Matt pulled off, hitting his breaks and taking the exit ramp. His fingers flew to the GPS, plugging in the address for their apartment and following its shrill commands back onto the highway. 

Going the opposite way he had come. Going back to their apartment. 

What a waste of 30 minutes. Matt just hoped that an hour was enough time for Mello to cool off. And hopefully not put a bullet between his eyes.

He bet Mello wouldn’t even thank him. The asshole wouldn’t say one word of thanks, or even any words at all. It would be an awkward, silent drive the entire time. And that was the _best_ case scenario. He’d probably get home and get kicked out all over again. Then he would be out an hour with nothing to show for it other than hunger pains and an empty pack of cigarettes. 

Matt wondered why the fuck he had even turned around, but one look into the barren passenger seat was all it took to remind him. He was going back for Mello, no matter how frustrating it was. 

By the time he pulled off the highway he had 5 cigarettes left. Soon to be 4 right after the one in his mouth was spent. 

He had kept the radio on the same station. It mostly played new hit songs from back home in the West, but there were a few nostalgic songs from his days at Wammy’s that filtered through the car’s speakers. 

Another Black Eyed Peas song was playing when he pulled back into the garage, following through his earlier steps in reverse. Turn the key the other way, pull it out of the ignition, put his gloves on, lock the car, put the keys back in his pocket. Walk inside, _ding!_ goes the elevator, ride up to their floor, walk down the hall, stop in front of their door.

It was still quiet. Dead quiet. The silence charged the air and Matt felt his skin break out in goosebumps. 

His fingers fumbled as he reached back and dug out his apartment keys, taking a couple of tries to slot them into the keyhole. Taking a deep breath, he turned the key.

_Click_

The sound echoed in his ears as he pushed open the door, lightly stepping beyond the threshold and keeping his boot wedged in the door. Just in case he needed a quick getaway.

To his surprise, Mello wasn’t pointing a gun in his face. He was still in the living room, sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. Mello’s hand had strayed to his waistband, poised over the hilt of a gun Matt knew was there. 

“Uh… Hey,” Matt said lamely, scuffing his feet.

Mello’s hand lowered, leaving his backside to return to his newspaper. “I didn’t tell you to come back.”

Matt swallowed and nudged the door open further, leaning against the chipping door frame. “Yeah. I know.”

He could practically feel Mello’s irritation. It radiated from the living room and baked Matt like a shitty artificial tan. “You know?” 

Matt nodded, realizing that Mello couldn’t see him a second too late. He was always a step behind.

“What did you fucking forget this time?”

This wasn’t going anywhere good and it wasn’t ever going to if Matt kept acting like a little bitch. “Nothing,” Matt said. “So get up. We’re going.”

Mello turned his head slowly, the angle only showing a sliver of the right side of his face. A single blond eyebrow raised. 

“C’mon. We’re going out. Dinner,” Matt said again, glancing at the digital clock that lit up their microwave, always 10 minutes ahead, “before it gets too late.”

Mello waved him away with his hand. “I don’t care what you eat as long as you’re not here.”

Ah, there it was again. Anger. “I didn’t fucking turn around and waste an hour of my life to have you wave me off, man. Get off your ass and get in the car.”

“I never asked for you to come back. You made that decision on your own,” Mello said simply, voice even and mechanical. “Don’t bother bringing me anything back, either. I’m fine.”

Matt’s feet moved before he could talk himself down, stomping from the doorway, through the kitchen, and into the living room. He usually saw the world through warm, orange light because of his goggles, but when he wrenched Mello up by the creaking collar of his leather tank top he saw red. 

Mello’s reaction was immediate. His hand shot out and clamped around Matt’s wrist, twisting and pulling at bad angles until Matt thought for sure his arm would break. “ _Don’t_ touch me like that. _Ever_.”

A groan slipped through Matt’s lips, as he tried to keep himself as still as possible lest he fuck up his arm even more. The pain had already seeped into his bones by the time Mello released him, the clicking of his heels against the floor fading as Mello moved away.

Matt cradled his aching arm close to his chest and felt a hollowness expand in his chest, sucking up all the space his body would give it. Yet his stomach still growled, not getting the message that he wasn’t up for much of anything anymore. He guessed his stomach did know quite a bit about being empty, though.

The once fading clicking of Mello’s heels was getting louder and Matt looked up to see him standing in the doorway. His red coat was pulled over his shoulders, its fur hood covering his golden blond hair.

Mello dug sunglasses out of his coat pocket and put them on even though the sun had already set. “Let’s go,” he said, taking long strides out into the hall.

Oh, so now he wanted to go? 

Matt scrambled out the door, nearly forgetting to pull it shut and lock it in his haste. Mello had left him a step behind again. 

When he jogged to the elevator the doors were still open, Mello being its sole occupant. Matt stepped inside and quickly moved to the far side, keeping as much space between him and Mello as possible. 

The doors shuttered to a close and Matt could see his and Mello’s figures in their reflective metal surface. His reflection looked horribly lanky, perfectly fitted with a sunken face. The other side of the elevator wasn’t much better. Mello’s reflection looked… menacing and more than a little pissed, his expression stony and flat. The sunglasses only made his expression even more unreadable. 

Matt leaned back against the wall and placed another cigarette between his lips, lighting up just as the deathtrap’s doors creaked open and killed their reflections. 

Mello stepped out first and Matt resigned to trailing behind, letting Mello lead him back out into the harsh weather and then into the garage for what would be his third time in the span of an hour and a half. 

Surprisingly, Mello moved to the passenger-side door, his foot tapping against the hard cement floor as he waited for Matt to unlock the car. Matt’s fingers fumbled—whether from nerves or the cold he wasn’t sure—as he unlocked the car, repeating the now-familiar steps. Key in ignition, turn, heat on, radio, relax.

He settled back against the seat and sighed. It was still warm, just like he had left it.

Mello’s car door slammed shut and Matt saw him reach for the dial to the radio out of the corner of his eye. The news was back on, filtering through the car in a steady Japanese dialect. Well, Matt had had 30 seconds of peace.

Before Mello could harass him any further, Matt put his forearm on the back of his seat and backed out (again), leaving the garage and pulling out onto the icy roads (again). The car was silent except for the steady drone of the news. Mello didn’t offer an olive branch and Matt kept his eyes on the road as he pulled onto the highway (again). 

Soft blues and purples colored the night sky, the evening collapsing in on them as they drove. Matt flexed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at Mello through his peripherals. He was leaned back against the seat, arms and legs crossed, staring straight ahead. He might as well have been made of fucking stone.

A bead of sweat made its way down Matt’s neck despite the December weather. He’d trapped himself in a car with an angry Mello. Voluntarily. His chances of survival would have been better if he’d been trapped in a car with a bear.

“Where are we going?”

Mello’s voice startled him and he flinched, whipping his head around towards the passenger seat. Icy blue eyes looked back from just over the top of Mello’s sunglasses. 

Matt swallowed. “A little noodle shop I saw. It’s, like, a couple exits down.”

Mello grunted in response and his head turned away, looking out the window as he uncrossed and recrossed his legs. 

Matt sighed. That was about the best answer he was going to get and he would take it as a “yes.” 

Streetlights flashed by in a blur as Matt accelerated, doing anything he could to shorten the travel time. Maybe a nice hot meal was just what Mello needed to chill out or at least talk to him normally again. 

Another droplet of sweat streaked down his neck and soaked the back of his shirt. God this was awkward.

Just as he was about to blurt out something stupid—anything to break the silence—a beacon of light shone down on him and cut him a break. He could see it in the distance, the glorious tarps of the little anime noodle shop waving proudly.

Matt shifted his foot to the break and slowed his speed as he pulled off the highway and into the tiny, empty parking lot. Mello didn’t make a move beside him, sitting perfectly still as the engine purred and the wind rattled the car’s metal frame. 

“Uh…” Matt cleared his throat, rolling down his window and flicking his cigarette butt out of it. “We’re here.”

Mello tapped his index finger against his crossed arms, staring out the window. “Probably doesn’t even have heating,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Matt to hear.

“Yeah, and you’re the one with the coat.” Matt cut the engine a little more aggressively than he had to and pushed open his car door, nudging it shut with his hip. 

Thankfully, Mello followed his lead, stepping out of the car and taking confident, clicking steps towards the restaurant. Matt sighed for what must have been the thousandth time and locked the car, slipping his keys into his pockets and following Mello’s back.

When he pushed aside one of the tarps he saw that the place was empty, the row of barstools completely open. Mello had already taken his place at one of them, a menu in front of him and a second placed to his left. Matt slid into the seat next to him and scanned the hand-written menu, mouth watering as his stomach growled loudly. 

The man standing on the other side of the counter greeted them with warm words and a pudgy smile, but fell quiet after that, giving them time to pick out what they wanted. When their orders were placed, he swiped up their menus and disappeared into the back, leaving Matt and Mello alone. Again.

So the universe was not cutting him a break. Mello still looked as cold as ice, leaned with his forearms against the counter and sunglasses over his eyes, and Matt’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. 

He pulled out another cigarette, just to keep his mouth busy, and lit up, blowing plumes of smoke up at the ceiling. His brain kicked back to life as the nicotine hit his tongue, but it was still giving him the same advice that would get him killed: Talk to Mello.

Another eternity of excruciating silence had elapsed when Matt finally let the thoughts win. Fuck it. If he died, he died. Rest in peace.

Just as he turned his head to Mello and opened his mouth, the pudgy man sidled back in. He was carrying a little tray, a chipped teapot and teacup elegantly poised on top. He set the tray in front of Mello and filled the cup to the brim, leaving the kettle on the counter before sidling back out again.

Matt changed courses immediately, reaching across the counter and pulling the little ashtray in front of himself and tapping his cig over it. If tonight kept going how it was, Matt knew he would fill the thing to the brim with his ash and cigarette butts.

Beside him, Mello shifted, his leather getup creaking with the movement. Matt watched as he leaned forward and took the cup, blowing steam off the top. Mello held it up to his nose first before lowering it to his lips, taking the tiniest sip Matt had ever seen in his goddamn life. Mello didn’t swallow for what was almost definitely far too long to be comfortable. The only indication that he had was the slight bob of his Adam’s apple. 

The reason hit Matt like a freight train: Poison. Mello was checking for poison in his drinks and… fuck it, Matt didn’t want to know. 

“What?” Mello was looking at him now, head turned and sunglasses pushed high up on his nose.

Matt had been staring for too long and the first thing that popped into his head slipped out of his mouth, “The sunglasses, man. Really?” 

Mello brought his tea back to his lips, now drinking out of his cup like a normal person. “Yeah, really. If you have another way to hide my scar I’d love to hear it.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “If you’re going for inconspicuous, fucking sunglasses at night is not the way to go. Also, who gives a shit? Why hide it? No one’s gonna care.”

“ _I_ care. For security purposes,” Mello shot back, his body now fully turned towards Matt. Well, at least he was engaging. “And ‘no one’s gonna care’? Really? Name one other person you’ve seen that has a branding mark like me. I might as well have a bright red target on my back.”

“They don’t even hide half of it anyways,” Matt mumbled, smushing his finished cigarette against the ashtray. 

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, danger filling the air around him. He glanced back at Mello and swallowed, his spit sticking all the way down his throat. Mello’s lips were pursed into a thin line and he was completely facing Matt. It would only take one short lunge and Matt’s personal bubble and jaw would be busted.

A gloved hand raised and Matt said his prayers, but the impending punch never came. Mello’s hand reached towards his own face until his fingers pinched the arm of his sunglasses, pulling them off and tucking them into his coat pocket. 

From Matt’s position on Mello’s left, he had a clear view of the scar that cut across the left side of Mello’s face. It caught the light of the hanging lamps of the noodle shop perfectly, accentuating the hard fleshy pinks of the jagged skin and making the sparse textured plateaus look even softer than they already were.

By the time Matt snapped his eyes back up, Mello was watching him, expression unreadable. Mello was giving him that look a lot and it made Matt’s brain short circuit, trying to place what the other boy was thinking without any success.

The sound of rattling from the back snapped Matt’s attention back, front and center. The same man who worked the counter pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen, his tray stacked with steaming hot food this time instead of tea.

Matt’s mouth watered as his ramen bowl was placed in front of him, remembering himself enough to duck his head and thank the man for the meal. Mello did the same thing beside him, picking up his chopsticks to poke at his plate of dumplings.

Matt wasted no time, eagerly swiping up his chopsticks and digging into the bowl, gathering the perfect bite and happily slurping it up. He knew he had been right about this place from the moment he saw it. The food was _heavenly_ , and with how empty his stomach was feeling, he could definitely find enough room to eat 3 bowls. 

“Matt.” 

Matt raised his head at the sound of Mello’s voice and looked over, quickly sucking the noodles hanging from his lips into his mouth. Mello rolled his eyes and pushed a half eaten dumpling around on his plate while Matt chewed, waiting to speak again until he swallowed.

“The work I gave you… forget about it. Just do it tomorrow morning.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, willing his jaw not to drop. “Are you sure? It’s really not that big of a deal. It’ll only take—”

“I said forget it,” Mello said and Matt put his hands up in surrender, leaving his chopsticks in his bowl.

“Okay, okay, Jesus. I’ll do it tomorrow, then. Whatever you want, man.” Matt took the bowl into his hands and lifted it to his lips, drinking the delicious salty broth that remained in the bottom of it. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh and rested his hands over his stomach, turning his head back towards Mello. 2 of his 4 dumplings were eaten, Mello’s chopsticks lying neatly on the corner of his plate.

Well, that was better than usual.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Matt asked, pointing to one of the perfectly tanned, glistening dumplings.

Mello shook his head and pushed the plate towards him, watching quietly as Matt tore into its soft flesh and brought a bite to his lips. Yup, everything was definitely heavenly.

By the time the check came out, Matt was feeling much better. A full stomach and warm food worked wonders. Even Mello’s shitty attitude wasn’t enough to put a damper on his mood. 

And Mello was getting better too, at least Matt thought so. Ever since he took off his sunglasses he looked more approachable and he acted that way too. It helped calm his conscience, just a little bit. Anything was better than when Mello was pissed. 

Matt slipped out his wallet and placed the yen on the counter. He always footed the bill for meals and he was feeling a little generous anyways. One dinner out wouldn’t hurt his bank account too badly.

“I’ll have to remember this place for next time,” Matt said as he and Mello walked back out to the car. “Bento boxes from the convenience store are alright, but this was heaven.”

Once again, Mello moved to the passenger side and slid into the car with a grace that made Matt’s knees a little weak. “It’s too far to be practical. I don’t really give a shit about food.”

“Yeah,” Matt agreed, plopping down into the driver’s seat and starting the engine, heat blasting through the vents, “unless it’s chocolate.”

Mello husked out a laugh and Matt turned to see a little smirk tug the corner of Mello’s mouth upwards. “Unless it’s chocolate.”

Just that simple gesture was all it took for Matt’s heart to beat a little too hard in his chest. Focusing his attention back on the road, he backed out of their parking space and merged back onto the highway, bound for home.

The next news broadcast came through the car’s speakers, boring enough to threaten to lull Matt to sleep. He didn’t dare reach out and change it, but Mello’s hand moved for him. Without any prompting, Mello turned the dial and the sound of music flooded the car. He’d found the English station, still playing its never-ending track of hit songs.

When the song changed, Matt cleared his throat. “Hey,” he started, waiting until he felt the heat of Mello’s gaze before continuing. “Uh, thanks. Really.”

Mello was smirking at him again, eyes drifting away to stare out the windshield. “I just didn’t want you to fall asleep.”

“Asshole.” Matt laughed, shaking his head and flexing his fingers against the wheel. “I still haven’t heard something from you that I should have.”

Mello was flat out grinning now, eyes narrowed in challenge as he crossed his arms and tipped his head against the headrest. “Oh?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah. I’ll give you a hint: 2 words, one starts with a ‘thank’ and the second starts with a ‘you.’”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matt,” Mello said and shrugged, glancing at him coyly out of the corner of his shining blue eyes. “Why don’t you stop playing games you can’t win?”

Their exit was coming up and Matt pulled off the highway, getting stuck at the first red light. He rolled his eyes and folded his hands on top of the wheel, turning his head and leveling Mello with a deadpan look. “You really don’t know? The fucking genius prodigy doesn’t know how to thank someone for getting him off his ass and buying him a meal?”

Mello seemed to consider his words, his icy blue eyes flitting back and forth as he examined Matt’s face.

And then Mello was leaning towards him.

And then Mello was kissing him.

Everything in Matt’s mind came to a screeching halt as Mello’s lips met his. He forgot how to breathe, taking a harsh breath of air in through his nose to supply his burning lungs with oxygen as his brain blocked out anything that wasn’t Mello. Mello and his soft lips, moving against Matt’s. Mello’s tongue that poked and licked its way into his mouth, followed by nipping, eager teeth.

Matt’s whole world tilted as Mello’s hand slithered into his lap, settling just a touch too high on his thigh to be considered friendly. Heat bloomed in his cheeks and warmed his neck, traveling downwards, lower and lower. 

A car honked, but Matt paid it no mind. It must have been the only car on the fucking road besides his and of course they would settle behind him, of course. They could use the other fucking lane for all he cared. 

His goggles kept meeting Mello’s face at uncomfortable angles so Matt tore them off, throwing them in the backseat as the car’s frame rattled. The other car had gone around them after all.

Mello’s hand squeezed and Matt moaned into his mouth, panting as Mello pulled back an inch and barely separated their lips with a slick sound. Matt’s lips were coated with Mello’s saliva.

“Thank you,” Mello whispered, eyes unabashedly turned upwards to flash him the most sultry, sexy look Matt had ever seen.

It sent warmth and a pang of arousal straight to Matt’s groin, his pants suddenly way too tight. Fuck, he was already hard.

Matt leaned back in his seat and tried to catch his breath, swallowing the buildup of his and Mello’s intermixed saliva and cleansing his mouth of the remnants of Mello’s invasion. 

“The light’s green,” Mello said from somewhere on his right. “You better get going.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Matt managed, shifting in his seat and trying to ignore the way his pants slid uncomfortably against his dick. 

He shifted his foot to the gas and the car moved forward, crawling along the road towards the infinite rows of office buildings, restaurants, clubs, and apartments. 

Mello’s hand pulled back and off his thigh, taking its warmth and nice grip with it. That was the exact _opposite_ of where Matt wanted it. What he really wanted was for Mello’s hand to move back to his thigh. To grip and squeeze all the way up to his hips. To undo his belt buckle and zip down his fly and take out his dick and—

The car’s tires screeched as Matt swerved back into his lane. Okay, maybe it was best that Mello didn’t do all that. He was having enough trouble staying in his lane as it was. 

A quiet laugh broke the monotony of the background music, but by the time Matt looked over, Mello’s expression was blank and innocent. As if he didn’t know what he had done and was doing, yeah right.

Mello raised one blond eyebrow as he met Matt’s eyes, a level, “What?” leaving his lips.

Matt was going to kill him. He was going to fucking kill him. 

All Matt could manage was a half-hearted shake of his head, nibbling on his bottom lip and fixing his eyes on the road. 

His erection continued to pulse between his legs, apparently seeing the need to constantly remind him that he wasn’t being touched. _Yeah, I get it. Fuck._

Another bead of sweat dripped from his temple and Matt shivered, already over-sensitive. Mello hadn’t even touched him for that long, but it felt like all his nerves were buzzing, over-eager and ready to jolt him at the slightest hint of stimulation. Once again, it was all Mello’s fault. The bastard hadn’t slept with him or even touched him since they’d made the move to Japan. When he thought about it, all of his problems boiled down to two causes: Kira, and Mello. Fuck them both.

Matt glanced over at one of his problems while he was stuck at another light—waiting to turn back into the parking garage for what seemed like the millionth time. Mello was in his “work clothes,” outfitted in tight, black leather which, somehow, revealed nothing. No bulge in the crotch, no out of place folds, nothing. Mello wasn’t even noticeably hard yet.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Matt muttered as the light turned green and he pulled into the parking garage. He followed the simple process that was quickly becoming his mantra: Find a spot, pull in, break, put it in park, keys out of the ignition, open the door, freeze your ass off.

Matt drew his vest tighter around himself and shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to wear his pants. Mello slid out of the car just as easily as he had slid in, graceful and light on his feet, making Matt weak in the knees.

He’d made his mind up. Mello was expressionless again, pretending to be innocent, brushing by him impersonally as if they hadn’t been crushing on each other and fucking for years. If Mello wasn’t going to make a move tonight, Matt sure as hell was.

Matt followed Mello back into the apartment complex like the good dog he was supposed to be, hands in his pockets and mouth devoid of a cigarette. When the elevator doors closed and Matt saw their reflections in the metal, they looked a lot different than he remembered. Mello’s reflection kept glancing over, like he knew something was going on in Matt’s head. He probably did know. Mello always knew. But even Matt’s reflection looked different. He looked confident, reserved. It was the best poker face Matt had seen on himself in years.

When the elevator doors opened with huffs and groans, carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, Matt followed Mello out. Mello’s platformers _clicked_ and _clomped_ all the way down the hall until they stopped at their front door. 

Mello glanced over his shoulder and Matt licked his lips, pressing a hand against the door to the right of Mello’s head. “Hey.”

Mello ignored him and pulled his keys out of his pocket, fitting them into the door. Matt moved closer before Mello could open it, leaning forward until his thigh pressed against the curve of Mello’s ass. “That’s really rude, ya know,” Matt said, leaning closer to Mello’s ear until he brushed Mello’s earlobe with his lips. “I was talking to you.”

“I know,” Mello said, terse, flat, even, and pushed open the door, striding into their apartment.

Matt barely held back a growl as he stomped after Mello, pulling the door closed hard enough to rattle the rickety, old frame. He wasn’t giving up. If Mello wanted to play coy, Matt would just have to try harder. Matt caught his wrist before Mello could grab the remote to the tv. “Well, when someone talks to you, they expect a response back.”

Mello’s eyes drifted from Matt’s face, to where his wrist was being held, and then back up, examining him closely now. Evidently, Mello was taking great pleasure in holding his tongue, and his face showed every bit of it. Matt wanted to punch him, but he wanted to kiss him more. 

He leaned in, could feel Mello’s breath on his cheek, and then he was falling backwards until he hit the couch. The worn-out springs creaked in protest, only to cry out once more as Mello’s body descended and joined him. 

Matt barely managed to get his bearings before Mello was kissing him, just like how he had in the car, slow and slick and aching. Heat pooled in the pit of Matt’s stomach again, hot and painful and delicious. The kiss turned more aggressive as Mello’s gloved hands gripped Matt’s knees and forced his legs open, leaving Mello more than enough space to fit between them. Mello peppered his kiss-swollen lips with hard bites and Matt clutched at his golden hair, holding his head in place and eagerly accepting all Mello had to give.

When Mello pulled away he was smiling, the slightest curl to lips the color of bleeding roses. Matt’s eyes were drawn to the faint pink that dusted the pale skin of his cheekbones, colored from exertion and arousal. 

His head descended again, moving lower down Matt’s body to his neck. Matt shivered as Mello’s long hair tickled his buzzing skin. He was sensitive enough on his neck as it was without his nerves being on high alert at the very likely prospect of sex. 

Mello’s lips made mischief as Matt tried to hold himself together; he was kissing and sucking in all the right places and Matt knew he would never live down the embarrassment if he came before anything had even started.

A groan slipped past his lips unchecked as Mello sucked a perfect bruise into the junction where his neck met his shoulder. Tomorrow morning when Matt looked in the mirror he knew he would see a nice hickey there, just within view if he wore his regular clothes. He squirmed as Mello decorated his skin with a few more.

Mello looked down at Matt’s body and Matt used the brief pause to catch his breath, loosening the grip he had in Mello’s hair. It was so pretty and soft; Matt would hate to rip or tear at any of it.

His legs fell open even more as Mello’s eyes stopped on the noticeable bulge in his pants, indicating _exactly_ where Matt wanted him. His partner, on the other hand, didn’t appear interested. He looked up at Matt with bedroom eyes, his irises dark with lust, and pushed up Matt’s shirt instead, lavishing a nipple with the attention Matt wanted on his cock. 

“M-Mello…” Matt protested, biting his lip and pinching his eyes shut as Mello lapped at him. “Fuck.”

Tongue became teeth and Matt squirmed, tossing his head back and breathing out heavy pants and soft “ah’s” as Mello worked. He was good. Fuck was he good. Matt couldn’t get his body or his mind under wraps and he knew he had to be twitching, but when Mello’s hand gave his other budding nipple the same attention, Matt found he didn’t give a flying fuck what he looked like.

Mello’s mouth pulled away, dropping a thin line of spit down his chest, and Matt realized that Mello was saying something just a second too late. “W-what?” he asked, swallowing the buildup of spit in his mouth and taking a breath.

Mello laughed over the sound of Matt’s fly being pulled down. “I said that I’m going to give you a treat,” Mello repeated, his hands burning trails up Matt’s thighs, “for being such a good boy.”

Matt grinned dreamily back at him, dropping his head onto the stiff arm of the couch. Mello’s apology sex was always the fucking best, and a treat meant… 

Matt whined as Mello finally pulled out his cock, his hand warm around the base. Peeking an eye open, Matt found that they were skin to skin. Mello had abandoned his gloves somewhere along the way. Impatience clawed at him as time went by and Mello gave him no other stimulation besides light gusts of breath across his length. Being a fucking tease was not part of Matt’s idea of a treat.

He was about to say something similar to Mello when his head dipped and he licked a stripe from Matt’s base to his tip. He was already weeping precum, but he found it hard to care when Mello was lapping at him, giving him the stimulation he had craved ever since their kiss in his car.

As if Matt wasn’t shaking enough, Mello closed his fist around his cock, slick with spit and precum, and pumped him a few times. The pleasure rattled Matt’s bones and arched his back up off the couch, driving himself into the short, quick movements of Mello’s fist.

It was all Matt could do to keep himself from thrusting when Mello opened his mouth and let Matt’s cock rest on his tongue. That damn smirk still curled Mello’s lips all the way until they wrapped around Matt in a perfect “o” and sucked. Matt’s trembling legs sprawled open as he moaned, the sound rumbling from inside his chest and falling unrestrained from his lips. 

He looked down at Mello through lidded eyes and his breath caught at how perfect Mello looked with his cock in his mouth and his eyes closed, bright pink dusted across his cheeks. Matt continued to watch as Mello’s bangs clung to his forehead, plastered there with sweat, and his eyes slowly opened. Icy blue eyes rose to meet Matt’s, Mello winking at him before he started to bob his head. Matt’s hands flew to Mello’s hair and he bit his lip hard, guiding Mello’s head further down his length as each bob drew Matt’s cock deeper into his mouth. 

Everything about what Mello was doing was obscene. The slick sounds coming from Mello’s mouth, his ass pushed up and out in the air so he could bend over Matt’s lap, the way Mello looked up at him and kept eye contact the entire time. It all went straight to his groin, flushing his cheeks a deeper red as he hardened even further. 

Mello had almost completely taken him in, his nose just barely kept from brushing the heating skin of Matt’s stomach. A little tug on Mello’s hair was all it took to push him down all the way and Matt groaned as he felt himself hit the back of Mello’s throat, so deep inside his partner's mouth.

“F-fuck, Mello… Y-you… Jesus,” Matt gasped, rocking his hips in shallow thrusts.

He kept Mello’s head in place with gentle fingers threaded through his golden blond hair, watching tears prick the corners of Mello’s eyes. As Matt continued to thrust, Mello began to moan, sending vibrations from his throat straight to Matt’s dick. It was a delicious pleasure and Matt threw his head back, moaning and panting Mello’s name as he rocked, hips canting into the wet, tight warmth of Mello’s throat.

Swallowing, Matt craned his neck to look at Mello’s pants now. They were awfully tight and there was his dick, straining to be freed from the constricting leather. Matt grinned and worked one of his legs until it was positioned between Mello’s thighs, using his knee to rub back and forth where Mello was the most sensitive. Mello gagged at the sudden stimulation and Matt hissed at the way his throat squeezed his cock, his eyes rolling back in his head. Fuck, he was close.

“M-Mello—ah… I-I’m…” His mouth wouldn’t form words, just heavy pants and breathy keens as he continued to work Mello with his knee and feel the vibrations of deep moans along his cock. “Clo-ose.”

Mello’s eyes were closed now and one of his hands left Matt’s hips. It raised to his own throat and cupped the curve of it, feeling where Matt’s cock sometimes made it bulge and squeezing the already-narrow passage tighter. 

The sight and the feeling snapped the building coil in Matt’s abdomen. He arched his back and pushed as deeply as he could manage into Mello’s mouth, moaning and calling Mello’s name as he came. Mello sucked him through his entire orgasm, draining him of all he had to offer and swallowing it all. Watching Mello’s throat bob as he swallowed was almost enough to set Matt off again, his cock twitching as Mello drew back and let it fall from his mouth.

The heavy pleasure of after-sex lethargy tugged Matt’s mind towards sleep, but he brushed it off and propped himself up laboriously on his elbows, drawing Mello into his arms. He combed a hand through Mello’s beautiful golden hair, admired the flush of his skin, the tears that pricked his eyes, the way his chest heaved as eagerly as if he had been the one to find his release.

Apology sex really was the best.

“You rile me up,” Matt said as he laced his and Mello’s fingers together. Mello’s fingernails were painted black. “You fucking rile me up so bad.” Mello was a bitch. He was a brat that was never okay with second place, who never gave up and never said die and always had to know more than him. He made Matt’s life hell, and Matt loved every part of him.

Mello flexed his fingers and moved his head to lay over Matt’s heart. “I can tell,” he said and grinned, his icy irises filled with warmth and satisfaction. “You love it when I do that.”

“Don’t compliment yourself, dick.”

“I wasn’t.”

Matt laughed, rolled his eyes. “You totally were. Fuck off.” He shifted his position and Mello worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Against Matt’s hip was Mello’s erection, hard and straining underneath all the leather.

“You’re not pissing me off right now,” Matt hummed, guiding Mello off him and sitting up on the couch, “and I think I’d like it if you continued to not be an asshole for the rest of the night.”

Mello crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his weight on one leg. It shifted the bulge in his pants and Matt’s mouth watered. “Get to the point, Matt.”

Matt pushed himself off the couch, shrugging out of his vest and kicking off his shoes. He dropped his pants and rested his hand on Mello’s lower back, nudging him towards the door of their single bedroom. “Someone hasn’t gotten off yet.”

“And what do you propose we do about that?” Mello asked, his voice full of feigned nonchalance.

Matt grinned, held his boyfriend and childhood crush’s stupid, manicured hand, and pulled him into the bedroom. “I dunno. Let’s find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a cannon-compliant fic, especially one that involved the second half of DN! Matt and Mello live rent free in my head, and they deserved so much more screen time and attention, so my brain came up with this to show my love for them.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and please leave kudos and comments if you did! I always love to read the comments and I respond to every one. They absolutely make my day.
> 
> Until next time <3


End file.
